


Shassie Les Mis au

by foxy_mulder



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Psych
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Les Mis AU, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-01 09:27:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10919019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxy_mulder/pseuds/foxy_mulder
Summary: Lassiter witnesses the town benefactor rescue a man from under a wagon using only a pineapple and a jar of oil. He's only seen one other man perform such a feat-an ex-con by the name of Shawn Spencer.





	1. Chapter 1

Carlton Lassiter was a dog among wolves. He thought himself to be a respectable man, orderly in appearance and conduct; a man both harsh and fair. He was justified in punishing others, arresting them, sending them to the gallows, because he would punish himself as harshly should he ever fail in his duties as an officer. An officer of the law. A _man_ of the law. But now he had failed in his duties. 

He stared pensively at the door. It seemed to loom over him, a grim reminder of the punishment he was about to face.

_Well, no putting it off now._

He knocked decicively. After a moment, The door creaked open, revealing the source of Lassiters shame- Monseiur Galileo Humpkins. The man stood stiffly, wearing a bathrobe and looking surprised to see the detective at his door so late. He laughed, carefree, and invited the Detective inside. 

"What brings you here so late, Lassiepants?" he grinned cheekily and plopped down on a leather chair.

Carlton resisted rolling his eyes as he usually would have done. He had no right, not after this massive blunder. He could hardly look Humpkins in the eye as it was.

"I- have something- I must confess, Monseuir," he ground out. "You see, with your astonishing feat, last month, saving that man using only a pineapple and a jar of oil-"

"Yes, I remember it well."

"I had only seen _one man_ do a thing like that before. A prisoner by the name of Shawn Spencer." 

Humpkins sat staring, then his eyes flashed in understanding.

"So! You thought I was him? Me, a prisoner, can you imagine?" Humpkins laughed again, different from the laugh before. It was a high, nervous thing. "Am I under arrest, Carly? Big bad Shane... What was it, Shane Speltzer?" 

Carlton ground his teeth, trying to remind himself that this man was one of the greatest benefactors to the city. And right now he couldn't antagonize him, no matter how much he seemed to want it or how much he was reminiscent of that damned Spencer. Humpkins and his stupid hair and his poking at Lassiter to get a reaction... why did the townsfolk love him so much, again? Carlton shook his head. _Focus._

"I've come to be laid off for my mistake." Oh how those words hurt to say. "You can't be Spencer; they apprehended the real one in a nearby town, stealing. I apologize, sir, please relieve me of my duties."

Perhaps it was a trick of the firelight, but Humpkins face seemed to pale at this news. 

"Th-the real Spencer, huh?" He paused. "Well, good. And you're not fired. that's stupid, I need you around, Lassieface- you're too pretty and angry to be unemployed!"

"But-"

Humpkins interrupted with a laugh and stood, maneuvering Lassiter out of the room.

"night night, arrest some evildoers for me!" And he slammed the door. 

The man was so strange.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh, this was not good. 

Lassie knew. Lassie _knew_ he knew. 

_...Or maybe not? After all, he apologized for his suspicions. Maybe everything's okay. But there's still the matter of some innocent Shawn Spencer lookalike taking the blame for those crimes..._

Shawn ran a hand through his hair roughly. Should he stay in the relative safety of being "Galileo Humpkins?" And sacrifice an innocent man to the gallows? God, no- he couldn't. But the man might have been guilty. Surely, he deserved... No.

He paced. Maybe Lassie would pardon him if he told the truth. The detective was fond of him- or maybe that was just wishful thinking. He seemed resistant to Shawns adoring words and pleading looks, but sometimes it seemed like... well, who knew. Shawn couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

He tugged his candlesticks from their hiding place. This was it. He had to melt them, throw away the past once and for all. Continue doing good for the town. The false Shawn was likely guilty, anyway, why did some random thief deserve a second chance? Shawn held the gleaming silver over the fire, steadying himself. All he had to do was let go, and no one would ever suspect him again. He would destroy this persons chance at life in exchange for his own. It was only fair. He was still a good man for it. 

His hand trembled. He threw the candlesticks to the wall, where they fell to the floor with a clatter. 

Shawn had promised the Monseigneur he would become a good man. And it seemed he had failed in every respect.

"...God, what's the matter with me?" he whispered. He had, moments before, been prepared to let someone be imprisoned in his place. He sat for some time there, head fallen, defeated, in his hands, still hot from holding the metal.

Finally he stood, making up his mind.

He would go to trial and prove that this man was not Shawn Spencer after all. If he played his cards right, they might not even know that he, Galileo Humpkins, Santa Barbaras most respected psychic-slash-rich benefactor, was the one and only thief, fraud, and dangerous criminal mind: Shawn Spencer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk who to have as cossette, so if anyones reading this please make suggestions!


	3. Chapter 3

Shawn was running. He had slept in, which wasn't unusual for him, but it was crucial that he arrive at the court before the verdict was announced. He wheezed, already exhausted. He was certainly not as spry as he used to be...

Well, actually, he couldn't recall ever being exceptionally spry in the first place.

He came to a stop; his legs were wobbly and he needed a break, just a short one.

"Excuse me," a voice rasped from the alley beside him. 

An old woman wrapped in rags sat in the dark, skin hanging loosely from her face as was common with the very tired, and the very old. She coughed wetly then addressed him again. 

"I'm dying," she said. 

"I'm sorry."

"Me too. It's your fault, though, _psychic._ You didn't come testify to my innocence...and I _was_ innocent. So they fired me, and now I use my begging to feed my son, there's nothing left for me here." She coughed, terrible and raking. Shawn felt a niggling of guilt. But he also remembered that he was in a hurry to help someone else in need of innocent-ing, if that was a word, so it'd be best to hurry this along. 

"Sorry, here, I'll give you some money-"

"No, I want you to bring me my son before I die. I want to see his sweet face one more time- That will make up for-" she went into a fit of coughs.

"Okay, but I really have to be somewhere just now, so I'll be back-" if he wasn't in the gallows "-tonight to discuss it some more. Okay?"

He set off again without another word, praying he hadn't missed his chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, can't believe people are still reading Psych fanfiction like 3 years later :)   
> That's so cool. I thought I was the only one!!
> 
> Please comment if you enjoyed it, or if you hated it, or if you have suggestions. 
> 
> Sorry for the late updates too


	4. Chapter 4

He fell into the courtroom, gasping for breath. The room collectively turned to stare. After a long moment he stood, and strutted to the front of the courtroom. Judge Karen smiled fondly. She was used to this; their local psychic would often come to the police or the courtroom weilding some irrefutable proof of the accused's guilt. His amazing ability, as well as his carefree and sparkling demeanor, were what had made him such a beloved member of the city. She would even go so far as to call him a local celebrity. With that in mind, she held his words with great respect, and listened intently for what he would say today.

"This man is innocent!" he flung his arm dramatically toward the accused. Karen lifted a brow, waiting for an elaborate and over-the-top explanation. It didn't come. She waited nearly a full minute before prompting him.

"And how did you come to know this, Monsieur Humpkins?" 

"A vision. A glorious dream. I saw him surrounded by... doves! And beautiful, innocent angels, all sucking his-"

" _Monseiur._ " She cleared her throat. "As much as I appreciate your vision, you know how the court operates. We must have evidence to back this up. As far as the jury is concerned, Shawn Spencer here will be sentenced to the gallows for life," the faux "Shawn" hung his head sadly, letting out a sullen noise, much like a duck being choked.

Shawn glanced up at the sound and did a double take. This guy didn't even look like him! He was pale, maybe in his 60's, overweight and most certainly did _not_ share Shawns glorious mane of hair. Frankly, he was a little insulted at the comparison. Lassie must not have gotten to look at the guy before they took him in, or this wouldn't even be happening. Who brought this guy in, Buzz? Lassie would never have thought- 

_Oh._

"Call in Detective Carlton Lassiter. My vision said he saw the real Spencer in the gallows the first time, so if this is really him, he can identify him again, yes? And I'm sure he'd agree that the true Spencer is more well-endowed with hair than this citizen. No offense, ah..." He glanced at the papers on the judges stand, "Woodrow."

Woodrows eyes lit up. "Oh, wow, you know my name, you really are psychic, aren't you? You know, I went to sleep once and when I woke up someone had taken my special jar of nail clippings and sometimes I still hear them talking to me from afar... Is it like that for you too? Oh, You must really know I'm innocent, then! We should be friends, call me Woody!"

Shawn blinked, processing the spray of words coming at him. then he grinned, offering Woody a hand to shake. 

Karen rolled her eyes. "Woody isn't his real name, you know. Spencer was known for coming up with phallic nicknames for himself, and this is just another one. It's _clearly_ him." She paused. "But I'll send for Detective Lassiter, anyway, just in case. I would hate to have any doubts about this."


End file.
